Wyatt gives me a knowing smile under his bushy beard.
“Whatever, my dude. I always had girls who just worked with me meet up at homeless parks after sunset, too.”
I shake my head fiercely, trying to form a response.
At least he’s not truly on death’s doorstep yet, however ugly that cough is. If the assholery in his sense of humor ever goes, then I’ll really worry.
“He’s not lying,” Dakota says. I almost wince knowing she heard us. “No good looks or bags of money could make up for his sterling personality, right? I’m here because I was mandated...and because I want to be.”
“In that case, you should let her go home. You can’t hold her hostage, Burns,” he growls.
I gaze at Dakota.
She bites her lip, her green eyes sparkling like gemstones in the moonlight. She’s a portrait of dark beauty that fits my melancholy spirit too well tonight.
“She’ll survive—won’t you, Nevermore?”
“Nevermore? You’ve even got a nickname? Shit.” Wyatt squints at me, calling me a dumbass without saying it.
“It’s cool. And I don’t really have a choice because I need a ride back to my bike,” Dakota cuts in, offering her support.
“Well, hell. I’m glad you finally found yourself a hot one you’ll appreciate whenever you pull your head out of your ass,” Wyatt says. “Better than wasting your life away at the office and chasing after me.”
I smile painfully, shaking my head.
“Man, it’s not like that. I told you. She’s an employee. Nothing more.”
“Yeah, and I’m Paul Bunyan.” He stands up straight and turns to Nevermore. “Hey, Dakota, since this guy insists you’re his model employee, you wanna date me instead?”
What the fuck? I could club him with that fake leg.
Now, I feel worse. I didn’t bring her here to take ridiculous advances from what’s supposed to be my best friend.
By some miracle, Dakota laughs it off with high, sunny humor I’ll admit I’m becoming addicted to.
“Sure,” she says.
What the double fuck?
“Dakota?” My head snaps to her.
“Yes, bossman? You look troubled.”
Damnation.
Maybe I should be feeling sorry for myself, instead of these two boneheads double-teaming me tonight.
“Don’t call me bossman,” I snap off.
“Why? Everyone else does.”
“You’re not—” I catch myself before I finish that sentence, ignoring Wyatt grinning like a wolf.
But she’s not like everyone else, is she?
I never once asked Lucy to get involved with Wyatt and his troubles. Not once in the two years he’s really spiraled down.
Dakota Poe is just an employee who has unprecedented access to the darkest chasms of my life.
Why?
“What’s got your tongue, Burns? We’ve got a few strays roaming around here,” Wyatt says, ribbing me in the side with surprising force.
I whack him back playfully as Dakota laughs louder, clenching her sides.
“Are you two done having fun?” My eyes flick to my tormentors, one at a time.
“Hmm, I dunno. Fun is pretty hard to come by,” she whispers with that spear of a tongue before calling, “How about you, Wyatt?”
“Nah. This is more fun than I’ve had in a while. We’ve got him riled up. He always has a tell,” Wyatt says with a smile I haven’t seen in months.
Oh, shit. Here we go.
“Wyatt, do not,” I bite off. “Don’t go there, or I swear I’ll find a better use for this leg that involves your head—”
“Look at his ears,” Wyatt says, fearless and pointing. “They’re redder than a cranberry.”
Smiling, Dakota leans closer, inspecting my mutinous fucking ears.
I’m torn.
Torn between reaching out to touch her and swatting her away, or making good on my threat to slug Wyatt with his own prosthetic. In the end, I do nothing but glower.
“You’re right! Holy moly. Those things could shame a fire truck,” she says with a messy giggle.
“Now you know. His ears always light up like Christmas when he’s embarrassed. Or lying,” Wyatt adds with a fuck you wink.
I so regret coming here tonight. Almost as much as I regret bringing Nevermore along for the ride.
“Dakota has something for you,” I say.
“Way to change the subject,” Wyatt points out, scratching his beard. “Don’t think we’re done with you yet.”
Dakota stands and steps up to my side, holding out the box of Regis rolls for me to take.
“Have you had dinner yet?”
She shakes her head.
“Take one,” I tell her. “You might get hungry before we’re back and we’ve got plenty to go around.”
She opens the box, grabs a cinnamon roll, and passes it to me.
I also take a roll before passing it to Wyatt. “Rest are yours. Just leave one for my mom.”
Without hesitation, Wyatt hoists a big roll from the box, bites a gaping piece off, and swallows. His table manners may suck, but there’s no table here and I’m just glad he’s eating like he always does.
“How’s your ma doing, anyway?” he asks, chewing loudly.
“She stays busy with her day trips and angel investing. Basically okay, but, you know...” I don’t elaborate, taking a big bite of my own roll.